Somewhere up there, Michael is watching. Or maybe not.

Dear ELV,

I just saw Michael Jackson Cirque concert. May I recommend that you do not go to see it. It’s complete, in-digestable junk.

Here’s my summary:

– Same old Cirque recycled acts.

– Same old stupid and lonely nomadic central character that is a wandering and terribly costumed metaphor for some dream-state something or other.

– Same old ubiquitous inclusion of a random fat person for levity of some sort. This one has the “fat lady Viking hat with horns” and all. So creative!

– Same old Russian whores writhing from ropes & rags suspended from rafters.

– Same old Asian sisters contorting themselves as the show’s dramatic pause during a scenic malfunction and reset.

– Same old Asian brothers doing rapid hand-springs in succession while in moronic “whimsical” elf-like costumes.

– Same old jumbo shoes props (just like blue suede shoes in Elvis show @ Aria). But, these are MJ’s moonwalking shoes.

– Same old hovering metal cages swirling over-head with acrobats inside looking very hum-drum about their  pseudo-trapeze act while they count the minutes until they can get out of costume and over to Marquee nightclub at the Cosmo.

–

Three new moves that are worse than the “same ole” list above.

1. A small person dressed as Michael’s chimpanzee “Bubbles” that is a recurring character in the show as a DJ, hip-hop dancer, acrobat, and stupid folly throughout.

2. A one-legged (an actual teen amputee of some sort) hip-hop dancer in sequined absurdity. Very verrry unsettling to watch. But, since Michael is dead, they needed another freak to fill the bill.

3. An enormous Jim Henson-esque mechanical boy (with a forlorn foam face) in a swing over a “Neverland” gate that had us all squirming with unease memories of pedophile and molestation charges.

I could not get out of the show quick enough. I wanted to shoot it with mercy and put it out of it’s misery.

Don’t go. Just don’t, OK?

Signed,

Fed Up With Freaks and Flying Canadians

ELV responds:

Dear FUWFAFC,

We’ve always considered it a barometer of refinement in Vegas just how fed up someone is with our plethora of flying Canadians — who have infected our hotels like chiggers on a Kodiak bear. What started out as something magical (Mystere) has devolved into bad, boring, repetitive, acrobatic vaudeville.

The teen amputee bit sounds like the last word in craven, maudlin, meretricious bad taste — in other words: PERFECT FOR VEGAS!

Dying was a great career move for Michael Jackson. He was too pathetic and too much of a pervert to make much of a comeback (no Vegas hotel would touch him). The big production show that was planned for him was doomed — as testimony in the Conrad Murray trial pointed out. He was a sick little man who did his anything-for-a-buck family a big favor by kicking the bucket.

“Thanks for dying Michael. We really appreciate it.” — Most likely the thoughts of all those now seeking to cash in on his death — who couldn’t have done so had he lived.

You have been warned.